


Breath

by Fairylights4672



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gallifrey angst, Hurt/Comfort, basically they talk about their feelings and cry over Gallifrey, mentions sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22409032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairylights4672/pseuds/Fairylights4672
Summary: The Doctor and the Master run into one another, and plan on going their separate ways.The TARDIS has other plans, and takes them to the place neither of them ever wanted to return too.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master, Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 227





	Breath

The Doctor thought about dying a lot. 

Not, dying and regenerating. Not the cycle. No, she thought about being gone. Forever. 

She was stood on the edge of The Morphan Falls- the tallest waterfall in the universe, and thinking about what it would be like to die. 

The Doctor wanted to know what it would be like to feel her last breath leaving her lungs, left to mingle with the atmosphere forever. She wondered what it would be like for that last breath to be the only part of her left. She wondered what it would be like to hear the world still carrying on, the universe still expanding and the planets still rotating and the stars still burning as she faded away, as darkness engulfed her. 

She wondered what it would be like to have the certainty of a body. Knowing that she wouldn’t change, the comfort of being sure that the body she died in was hers, was solid and would only leave behind her glowing timestream. She wondered what it would like to feel her hearts throb one last time, before giving in to the fatigue that had lined every cell of the Doctor’s body since the Time War. 

Of course, she’d never do it. Would never really give in to the fatigue, no matter how much it plagued her. She couldn’t die yet. She was still needed. 

Still, it felt nice to pretend sometimes. 

The Doctor shrugged off her coat, weight of her sonic in her pocket pulling it down to the dark grey dirt quickly. 

The TARDIS whined quietly, a few metres away, and she closed her eyes for a moment, reassuring her that the she’d be back. 

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Wasn’t the TARDIS’s fault. She just needed time alone. 

Needed time to not be there anymore. 

And so, the Doctor stepped off the cliff. 

She didn’t like falling. It felt too much like regeneration.Felt like she’d left her body on the cliff side, like her body was pushing up, scrambling to find leverage, trying to grab onto something and stop the pull of gravity. Wind roared against the Doctor’s form, chilling her down to the marrow of her screaming bones and sending a jolt of sharp fire through her system. The freezing gale was enough to make her skin burn, her throat clam up and her hair knot. 

The Doctor closed her eyes, and let herself burn up. 

She fell for minutes, or hours. Maybe even days. She couldn’t be sure. 

No one knew how tall the Fall’s were. They couldn’t be measured. The Doctor didn’t even know. 

What she did know, however, was that the water below was comforting. 

She hit it like a speck of dust creating a minute ripple, not big enough to see with the eye. 

The Doctor gasped in a large, involuntary breath as she hit the surface, and the lack of disturbance above her was comforting. 

This was vast, and she was so small. So inconsequential. No one would care if she was gone, no one would even notice. 

If she was dead, maybe she could pretend her home didn’t burn. 

The Doctor sunk, and the depth clung to her clothes and her skin, seeping into her very being and dragging her further and further down. 

She watched the light dissipate above her, offering her a sad farewell as she fell deeper, black curling around her burning figure. 

The water put her out, wrapped her up and suffocated her, gently and soothingly. It reassured her as the Doctor’s respiratory bypass kicked in.

Her mind closed itself off. It allowed the water in, let itself be filled with a deep and comforting nothingness, as it lulled her to what the Doctor had been clawing to find for millennia’s- a dreamless sleep. 

But her body began to scream. It cried at her to work, to get back up onto the surface and gasp in deep breaths of air- deep breaths of sorrowful, regretful, grief-stricken and corrupted air. 

Her mind refused. 

It would not give in to salvation. 

She didn’t deserve it. 

The Doctor sucked in a heaving breath, and her mind pulled the plug, struggling to catch up with her shaking body. 

Her elbows were pulled up to her chest, and she was spluttering water onto the grey dirt, soaked hair hanging around her face like a taunt of what almost had been. 

Why hadn’t it? 

She hadn’t pulled herself out. Yet here she was, sprawled across the ground and coughing up salt water like she’d pumped her lungs full of it. 

Well- in a way she had. 

“What are you doing?” The Doctor heard a voice growl in front of her. Blinking through her salt laden eyelashes, she looked up. 

The Master was crouched in front of her, soaked through and scowling like she’d never seen him, lip twisted into something so taught and vicious she was surprised it hadn’t broken off. 

“Why-“ her voice came out cracked and wheezing, and the Doctor pushed herself onto shuddering elbows, spitting water to her side. “Why do you care?” Her gaze almost matched his. But it wasn’t perfect. She was breaking- had already broke. 

Her body betrayed her as it sucked in the contaminated air, and every breath she heaved in was a punishment for what she’d done. 

“Were you trying to kill yourself, Doctor?” The Master snapped at her. She looked up at him, regarding his face. 

His scowl was obvious- he was furious. But his wet hair hung low in front of his eyes, a reminder of what he’d done- who he became because of her: someone who cared. 

“Doing you a favour.” She muttered, pushing herself up shakily onto her knees. “Since you’re always trying to do it yourself.” The Doctor didn’t want to talk to him. He was honestly the last person she wanted to see right now- for a long time. 

Her mind had been haunted for months of the smouldering ashes of Gallifrey. So much pain, and for something she knew so little about. It was pointless. He was pointless. 

Her legs were way too wobbly for her liking, but the Doctor was prepared to trek all the way back to her TARDIS on quivering knees if it meant getting away from the Master. 

His eyes were only another reminder- a reflection. When she looked into them, all she saw were screams of children who hadn’t been cruel enough. 

“Doctor.” He muttered behind her. 

She ignored him. 

“When will you listen to me?” He snapped. 

He was following her. 

She didn’t reply. 

The Doctor’s legs were beginning to work again, muscle and bone draining out the water but still rubbing, jarring against fatigue. 

She spared him the yelp when he gently kicked the back of her knee and sent her crashing back to the ground. 

“What do you want?” She spat, hands on the floor as he stepped to kneel in front of her. 

“What are you doing?” He demanded, eyes hard as she snarled back. 

“Running. From what you created.”

“What we created.” He reached out gently to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but the Doctor slapped his hand away, growling uncharacteristically back. 

“I had nothing to do with it. You burned them.”

“And yet,” he cocked his head slightly, gaze never wavering. It was enough to send the hairs on the back of her neck standing, but the Doctor didn’t give him the pleasure of seeing her swallow. “You’re the one jumping off of waterfalls.”

“I wasn’t going to kill myself.” She rolled her eyes slightly, standing again. “You ruined your hair for nothing.”

“Not sure I did.” He quipped, helping her up. Despite herself, the Doctor didn’t bat his hands away. She trembled slightly, and tried to find her balance. “You were under there for almost too long.”

“I would’ve been fine.” She argued, beginning the long and tedious trek back up to her TARDIS. She wanted to go now. This place reminded her of to much. 

That seemed to happen wherever she went now. She’d travel somewhere full of colour and life and breath, only to have it tainted with memories of overwhelming dust, the heat of fires, and the stillness of death. 

So she’d run again. 

-

He followed her. She pulled herself- dragged herself, even, back up to the TARDIS, and he followed without a word. 

He made no effort to laugh at her, tease her when she couldn’t quite make it up a ledge. He spoke nothing of Gallifrey, he kept out of her mind. 

He only followed, a darker shadow than any other, and helped her when she needed it. 

The Doctor didn’t thank him. 

She didn’t understand. 

“Doctor.” He spoke finally, as the TARDIS came back into view, thrumming with energy at the sight of the two time lords. 

“What?” She asked, tiredly. There was no malice, no fondness. Only age, and the bags under her eyes. 

“I didn’t let them suffer.” 

The Doctor had been broken many times before. Too many to count. But enough, to know the feeling of her hearts clenching in her chest, her knees wobbling and her voice tightening in her throat. 

Enough to know the silence that followed- often months of it. Nothing but the systems in her body to keep her company, and the constant that one day she would break again. 

It never hurt any less, but she was used to it now. 

But nothing, nothing could have prepared her for those words. Nothing would ever feel like that had felt, as if someone had twisted a knife into her very soul, warping it and sucking the life left and leaving her as a shell.

It was almost enough to make her keel over. 

Surprisingly, however, her voice worked. And it was cold. 

“Why?” 

“Why?” He repeated, confused. 

“Why did you do it?” She stepped towards him. Her body worked without her mind- her mind was still drowning somewhere. 

“You can’t know. Not from me.” He replied, darkly calm. 

“Yes I can.” The Doctor stepped towards him again, and jerked upward, raising her hand to his forehead. 

She didn’t feel the achingly tight grip he had on her wrist until he slammed her against the TARDIS wall. The impact snapped her back, her mind jolting into place and starting up again- emotions flooding back through her entire body. 

“ No .” He growled, anger coming straight from his gut. “Absolutely not.”

“Tell me.” She spat, fury seeping through her veins and creeping towards where his hand dug into her skin. 

“No.”

“Yes.” She raised her other arm. Obviously, the Doctor hadn’t been expecting it to work- and it didn’t. As she found out when her head smacked the wall painfully as her other wrist was pinned against her ship. 

The Master was for once, infuriatingly taller than her, and whilst, in any other situation, where his intentions held no real malice, she would’ve been able to slip from his grasp, now he was furious. 

He pressed her hips and wrists, hard, like he was trying to push her through the wall by will power alone. 

“Get off me.” She scowled at him, and he scoffed, turning his head away from her for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t have had to do this if you just played by the rules, Doctor.” He hissed, turning back to gently nose at the slope of her neck. 

The Doctor breathed in sharply despite herself, and if the Master wanted to kill her, she wanted it more. The time lord would never forgive herself for how her body- every body she’d ever had reacted to him, like it was something written in the fabric of time that she wouldn’t be able to change, even if she rewrote the whole thing herself- which she had, several times. 

“This isn’t a game.” She muttered, and he pulled back slightly to look at her. His gaze was still hard, and he was still obviously furious, but there was something underneath. Something more calculating than blind fury. 

That scared the Doctor. 

“Why do you want to know why I did it?” He asked, voice slimy and wrapping around his words like some kind of parasite. “Won’t you just run from that too?”

“Probably.” The Doctor admitted, shifting slightly to see if his hold had weakened. It hadn’t, and only grew tighter when she tried. 

“Ah, ah, ah, Doctor.” He shook his head the smallest bit. She huffed, infuriated, and dropped her head against the wall behind her. 

“Would you let me go? We can have this conversation without you pinning me to my own ship.” She muttered, eyes tired and completely over the Master’s games. 

“Can we?” Tilting his head to the side, and narrowing his eyes at her. “Because I can distinctly remember all those thousands of times where I tried to have a conversation with you about our home, and you ran.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have too,” she lifted her head from the wall, “if you hadn’t had burnt it to the ground in the first place.” She hissed, furious at the implication that she was the one in the wrong here. 

“You’ll understand. One day.” He replied firmly, and the Doctor almost groaned. 

“Or I could understand, right now. Tell me.” She said firmly. 

“No.” He spat, suddenly seething at her insistence. “I need you to find out on your own.”

“And I need to stop wondering wether it was my fault!” She snapped loudly, heaving with the weight of planets and guilt. 

She immediately regretted it, afraid she’d said too much. The Doctor held her tongue, and watched his reaction. 

For a millisecond, his gaze softened into one of genuine surprise and sympathy, before he twisted it into sharp words and a chuckle that made the Doctor want to punch him in the face. 

“Oh Doctor. I thought you’d learnt.” He scoffed quietly, shaking his head with a fond, twisted smile. 

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was sharp, and they both knew exactly how she sounded. Like a wounded animal backed into a corner and trying to scare everyone off. 

His gaze dropped to her jugular as she swallowed. She felt his grip loosening, but didn’t attempt to move until she knew for sure he was moving. 

He did, letting go of one of her wrists to trace his calloused fingers down her throat, lighting up as his touch left a trail of goosebumps. 

The Doctor sucked in a quiet breath, and glanced at him. His gaze was on her skin. However, that didn’t stop him from snapping his arm up and grabbing her hand from where it was an inch away from his temple. 

He didn’t raise his gaze, didn’t snap in fury like the first time, only tightening his grip around her other wrist as he gently pulled her attempting hand to his lips. 

Pressing small kisses to the heel of her palm, the Doctor watched, hearts beating surprisingly fast. 

Her head was swirling, caught up in sorrow and regret and fury and comfort and just wanting someone to hold her and tell her she had done everything she could’ve. 

“You told me, in that graveyard, that you weren’t a good man, or a bad man.” He explained against her skin, meeting her gaze. “So, why do you suddenly care wether it was your fault or not? Still self-righteous?” 

“Because..” her voice was sure of itself, but quiet. “It was my home. And- and I’d already felt guilty for it’s destruction once. I just want to know I don’t have to go through that again.”

“But you do feel guilty.” He announced, and she nodded slowly. “Why?”

“Maybe if I’d been there, I could’ve saved them. Maybe if I was stronger, I could’ve killed you, and none of this would’ve happened.” 

The Master regarded her for a moment, dark eyes sweeping over her face as she experimentally tried to tug her hand out of his grip. 

He didn’t let go. 

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

The Doctor sighed helplessly. 

“I don’t know.” She admitted, shoulders dropping heavily. “I don’t have it in me.”

“You do.” He reassured, before pressing her hand to his chest. The Doctor felt the slow and deliberate pulsing of his hearts beneath her fingers, and she sighed, ducking her head into the little space between them. “That’s why.”

“Can you just...leave me alone?” She asked, drained and aching. 

“To wallow?” He teased. However, his grip relinquished and he stepped back, letting her push herself away from the TARDIS wall. 

“Sure.” She sighed deeply, turning towards the doors. 

“Where are your pets?” He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes as he tried to remember. “Graham..Yaz and..Ryan, was it?”

“They’re gone.” She muttered, pushing open the door. 

“Forever?”

“I don’t know.” She admitted. If she was honest, she didn’t want to talk about them. It hurt too much, and if it was possible to rip open her hearts anymore, that would do it. 

The Doctor felt a grip on her wrist, but it wasn’t rough. It was steady, warm and the time lord could feel the pulse from the Master’s thumb on her skin. She turned to look at their connection, then glancing back up to him. 

“How long have you been alone?” He asked. The Doctor watched his eyes, searching for anything teasing, anything cruel. But they were concerned, suspicious. 

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. “Maybe a few weeks.”

“How long has she been alone?” The Master opened the question up to the room, and his other arm stretched out slightly, palm pressing flat against the wall of her ship. 

The Doctor wanted to tell her TARDIS not to tell him, not to betray her like that. But she knew the ship couldn’t help it. The Master had always had something about him, that neither the Doctor nor her home could turn away.

“Eleven months.” He said sternly. 

“I’m fine.” She tried to gently pry her wrist away, and he let go, letting himself in, however. 

“Doctor.” He closed the door and she sighed frustratedly. 

She wanted him gone. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to wallow in guilt and dust and death. She wanted nothing but the TARDIS to fill her ears. Enough to block out the screaming but not enough to block out the overwhelming silence that she’d forced her mind into. 

“Doctor.”

A constant reminder. 

The silence of billions of people without a breath in their lungs. All drowned in the darkness and contaminating the air with their innocence and all of the millions of reasons each person didn’t deserve what had happened to them. 

“Theta.” The Doctor felt a breath behind her, and she sucked in another. Every breath a punishment. Every breath filling her head with all the reasons they didn’t deserve it. 

Why was he here? He’d slammed her head back into action, forcing it to run through everything she’d been trying to force out. She wanted him gone. She wanted quiet. She wanted the violent silence to fill her head again. 

“Please go.”

“Tell me what you need.” His breath was hot against the shell of her ear, and the Doctor let out a sharp exhale, trying to grasp his words over the screaming and grief. 

“I- I want to not hear anything. I just want to not think.” She muttered, and the Master hesitated in thought for a moment. Before, he gently touched her back and turned her around to face him. 

“If it makes it easier.” He agreed. The Doctor nodded a little in gratitude. 

No matter what the two time lords had against each other, no matter what they’d done, how they’d try to hurt each other, at least they would always have this. 

The understanding that sometimes, the mind got too much. The brain of a traumatised time lord roared, they both knew that. The understanding that it was something only they could help with, and that the other would always be there if they needed it. 

The Doctors mind was tearing itself in two, and she let the Master help in the only way he knew how to- the same way in which she would help if he needed her too. 

He stepped the little way closer, meeting the Doctor half way as she pulled him close by the sides of the face, and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

Her mind stopped in it’s tracks as she desperately emptied it out onto his lips, and the weight at which everything left her was almost enough to send the Doctor crashing to her knees. 

The Master knew this of course, had experienced the same thing less than a century ago, and pinned her firmly between him and her own console.

Their new bodies were peculiar, but the feeling was familiar. She wasn’t used to having to angle upwards, or the rough stubble around his face, but it didn’t matter. She barely felt it. 

The emptiness that she was left with was deafening, and so  good.

She breathed out a long, relaxed sigh against his lips, and he breathed it in, allowing her to feel nothing at his expense, even if it was just for a while. 

-

The Doctor hadn’t been expecting a dreamless sleep. She hadn’t been trying to sleep- she never wanted too. But she was tired and the TARDIS had encouraged it, running her round and round in circles until she had no choice but to go back to bed and lie there. 

She still hadn’t planned on sleeping. 

The room was deathly quiet, and so was her mind. It felt blank, like a clean slate. 

She lay there, staring at the ceiling and trying to think about something, something nice. But her mind drew her back to nothingness and the time lord wasn’t sure how long it was before she dropped off to sleep. 

But she didn’t dream. She heard no sound, tasted no blood, saw no smoke. She saw darkness and felt warmth, keeping her under and allowing her to drown in the sleep she’d been avoiding for weeks. 

The Doctor felt her chest rising and falling, felt her hearts pumping, more languidly than they had in days. Felt the blood flowing around her body and her limbs slowly easing into a duller ache than usual. 

Not perfect. But enough to replenish her energy and wake her up some time the next day. 

The Doctor’s eyes fluttered open as she stretched out slightly, hands coming to her eyes to rub. They still itched slightly with tears and salt water, and the time lord had to brush off collected crystals still hanging to her eyelashes. 

She yawned softly and swallowed, her mind re-engaging and trying to figure out why she hadn’t woken up in a cold sweat and a pillow soaked with tears. 

The Doctor felt a warmth draped over her middle, and she frowned, half awake, turning her head slightly to try and find the owner. 

Oh. Yeah. 

The Master was asleep next to her, breathing deeply with one arm wrapped around her waist. The Doctor considered shrugging it off, but she didn’t want to wake him. 

She imagined he hadn’t been getting much sleep recently either. 

The time lord tried to roll onto her other side to face him the best she could without waking him, and managed it. Drawing her hands close to her chest, she looked over his new face with wide, curious eyes. 

He looked relaxed, at peace. There were no lines plaguing his face, and it wasn’t twisted into a scowl. The Doctor decided she quite liked the stubble, it was new- different. 

She longed to think of something. Be it, the atrocities he’d committed or the smart boy she had had a crush on as a child. But her mind would think of neither. It would drag her back to only observation, and it would stay that way, she assumed, until the Master removed his arm, and closed their connection off, for the mean time, from his end. 

Her eyes trailed down to his neck and shoulders, and the Doctor found herself wanting to trace her fingers over the skin. It was smooth, apart from a few moles, no scratches. No cuts, no bruises. No scars. 

Even her new body wasn’t scarless. It was unusual to see in any time lord, and it got the Doctor wondering what body he’d been in when he’d burn-

His eyelids fluttered. But they didn’t open. 

“You’re staring.” He muttered, and the Doctor blinked in surprise for a moment, before shrugging, even though he couldn’t see her. 

“You don’t have a scratch on you.” She observed. 

“Too quick.” He jested absently, opening his eyes. 

She was surprised at how dark his eyes really were, she’d never properly looked at them before. 

They swirled like the galaxies, and burnt like them too. Hurt like the planets spinning in them, and loved like the people on the planets. 

“You’re still staring.” The Master pointed out dryly. 

“You’re still sharing.”

“Right.” He nodded, blinking himself awake a little. He removed his arm from her side and she felt a little cold. The Doctor closed her eyes and breathed in sharply as he shut his door. Everything gushed back into her mind like a flood, and it burnt. 

“You know,” she swallowed, trying to ignore the thoughts clicking back into place and beginning to throb again. “You didn’t have to let go.”

“I know.” He hummed, rolling onto his back and watching the ceiling. It was splattered with Gallifreyan, words the Doctor had never really taken the time to read. 

She frowned slightly, watching his profile carefully. 

“Why don’t you touch me?” She asked. 

“I do.” He shrugged. 

“Not like you used too. When we were kids.” His face didn’t change. “You used to hug me.”

“And you used to love me. Things change, Doctor.” He spared her but a hard glance, before he pushed himself out of the bed. 

He began to fiddle about with buttons as he shrugged on a shirt, and the Doctor frowned deeply, propping herself up onto an elbow. 

“I do love you.”

He chuckled and pulled a shoe on. 

“No you don’t.”

“Why do you want me too?” She asked, sitting up and watching his body language. He didn’t reply, only moved on to the other foot. 

“You used to look at me, like I hung the moon and the stars we watched each night.” 

The Doctor wasn’t sure what to say to that. 

She wasn’t even sure how she felt about him. Yes, the thought of him was enough to make her blood boil, make her furious beyond belief and possibly control, but there was a part of her that was convinced she needed him. 

In a way, he was there, when no one else was. Not always with comforting words or a way out, but always with some element of truth, and always the reminder of home. 

And always the option to pretend like memories didn’t exist for a few hours. 

“How do I look at you now?” She settled upon, watching as he stood up. The Master turned to her and leant over the bed, pressing a kiss to her lips. It was fleeting and so confusing, as evident by the way the Doctor’s brow creased when he pulled away. The Master glanced at it and the pad of his thumb came to gently smooth it away. Locking eyes with her, his thumb dropped.

“You look at me, like I cut them down for you.”

-

The Doctor found him around ten minutes later, fiddling with things on the console. 

“What are you doing?” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“How do you use these? They’re so much more complicated than they used to be.” He muttered, flipping a switch. The Doctor stalked over and batted his hand away. 

“Oi. My TARDIS, my rules. You can’t just go around flipping switches.”

“Well how else am I going to get her working?”

“If you wanted to leave you could have just told me.” She sighed. “Isn’t your TARDIS still here at the falls?”

“No. You stranded me without it, remember?” He glowered and the Doctor shrugged slightly. 

“Thought you would’ve gotten it back by now.” She flipped the switch back and pushed down on a button. “How did you get here if not with a TARDIS?” She frowned, resetting the systems and taking them off the planet with a jolt. 

“Kasaarvin forest. All those wires. Not hard to make a cheap teleport.”

“Where to?”

“Your TARDIS. I knew you’d take me back to mine.” He shrugged lightly, teasing lining his eyes. The Doctor hummed slightly, thinking it over. 

She wasn’t sure if she should take him back. She knew he’d only cause more trouble if she did. And if she was being honest, there was a small part of her that didn’t want to be alone again. 

But still, she agreed, setting in the co-ordinates for where she’d left his TARDIS. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” He smirked, brushing past her ear achingly slowly. The time lord batted him off and rolled her eyes, putting the console in between them with deliberate intent in her eyes. 

“You wound me.” He jabbed lightly. 

“Shame.” She shrugged, as the TARDIS jolted to a halt. The Doctor skidded back around to check they’d definitely landed in the right place.

Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. A deep frown came to etch it’s way onto her features, and she flipped another switch. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 

“Oh,” she glanced up, trying her best to smooth her face into one of neutrality, as she forced the TARDIS to de-materialise again. “Just, wrong place.” The Doctor set them back on course to Earth, and tried to force out the sweat that was building in between her fingers. 

The ship landed again, and the Doctor checked her co-ordinates. 

Her jaw set, and she made to pull the lever down again, before the Master caught her wrist. 

“Where are we?” He asked, pressing two fingers to her abnormal pulse as the others wrapped around her skin. 

The Doctor swallowed tightly, and stepped back from the screen, allowing him to look for himself. 

His grip tightened, if only slightly, and he turned to her, usual glare back in place. 

“Why has it taken us here?”

“You think I know?” She snapped slightly, pulling her wrist out of grip and trying to set them off again. The TARDIS de-materialised, and they waited in silence, baited breath between them. 

When they landed, the Doctor checked the screen, only to find the co-ordinates had disappeared.

She pushed herself away from the console angrily, before beginning to pace the floor. 

“Where are the co-ordinates?” He asked, after checking the screen himself. 

“She’s hidden them. She wants us to look outside.” The Doctor practically spat, not angry at anything in particular. 

She wanted to be furious with the TARDIS, and she was. However it was more than that. She was angry at the situation, angry at the Master and angry at herself. 

The Master frowned, lip pressed into a thin line. 

“I’ll do it. Then we can get off this god-forsaken planet.” 

The Doctor stopped her pacing, before only nodding at him. She turned her back to the door as she heard him make his way over, heard the door creak and a deep sigh. 

She felt the heat on her back, the smoke in the air, the blood on her tongue and the stillness. 

The  fucking stillness. 

Tears clogging at her eyes, the Doctor felt like throwing something across the room, like screaming and crying and waiting for the floor to swallow her up.

Was this a punishment? Was her ship punishing her for trying to forget for a while? Was the universe punishing her for even thinking for a second, that she could be free from pain? 

“There. I’ve looked. Take us off this planet now.” The Master called to the room, shutting the door. 

The TARDIS didn’t reply. 

Turning towards the console once more, the Doctor pulled down the lever with a little more force than necessary, and the TARDIS took off again. 

They seemed to fly for a little longer, and the Doctor started to think that maybe the TARDIS had proved whatever kind of point it was trying too. 

The time lord sucked in an agonising breath, before stepping over to the Master. His eyes were hard to read, cold and deep. She didn’t look into them though, as she spun him around, pulling off his coat from his back. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“Don’t want the TARDIS smelling of smoke.” She replied shortly, taking the heavy cloth and holding it almost at arms length. She swung down to the second floor, opening a hatch and throwing his coat in it. 

That would clean it. 

The Doctor put her hands flat on a pillar, dropping her head and breathing deeply. 

It felt like a nightmare. This whole thing. Her legs felt weak and she couldn’t believe her own ship had betrayed her own promise to never return to her home again. 

She clenched her jaw, offering a half-hearted punch to the pillar as the ship jolted to a stop. 

The Doctor pulled herself upright, before reappearing in the main console room. 

“It’s still not showing the co-ordinates.” The Master frowned from the console. His eyes were darker, and the other time lord could finally see what was in them. 

He was hurting. 

“Doctor.”

“I know.” She shrugged off her own coat, leaving it on a pile on the floor. “We’ll take it in turns.”

She stepped towards the door, breathing out a long, shaky breath.

Her hand was trembling as she clasped the door, and the Doctor swallowed. 

It was somehow harder this time, knowing what she would see on the other side. Knowing there wouldn’t be a sound. 

She opened the door. 

The Doctor thought it might have been easier. She’d already seen it once, she thought maybe things would be easier, especially because she saw it every time she closed her eyes. 

But it wasn’t. 

The Time Lord squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a burning tear drop down her cheek. It was as if she’d never shut her eyes though, the image before her boring into her mind with the fire of suns. 

There was not a breath, except her own. 

The Doctor shut the door forcefully, turning her back to it and breathing out shakily. 

“Happy now?” The Master scowled at the console. “Let us go.” He demanded. 

The ship whirred. 

“Punish me all you want.” The Master argued back, and the Doctor pushed herself off of the door. 

She wanted to be out of her clothes, she wanted a shower and she wanted to never smell smoke again. She could feel the hot destruction, clinging to the fabric of her clothes and gripping her hair. 

“She doesn’t deserve it though.” The Master continued. “I was the one that killed them. If not for me, let us go for her.”

The TARDIS didn’t reply, and the Doctor rubbed at her irritated eyes, trying to get out the death and hot air. 

“Not even to Earth. Just let us leave.” He snapped, fed up with her ship. 

The Doctor reached the console, words dying in her throat as it clenched with smoke. 

She felt like she was on fire. 

The Time Lord reached a hand out, resting it on the console. Deciding a more gentle approach with her ship, she opened her mind, reaching out to it. 

She breathed in deep, pushing all of the hurt and sorrow and regret and guilt she’d been feeling into her ship, in an attempt to get the TARDIS to understand. 

The Doctor wasn’t expecting push back. 

She jumped back, removing her hand and swallowing tightly. 

“What?” The Master asked, from where he’d been pacing the floor. 

“She..she knows. How we’re feeling.”

“Then why?!” He yelled, opening the question up to the room. 

“I don’t know.” The Doctor admitted, jolting slightly when the TARDIS set off on its own. “But I’m not up for playing many more stupid games.” She sighed out sharply, frustrated and tired. 

“You smell of smoke.” The Master pointed out from across the room. 

“I know.” She snapped shortly, unwelcoming of the reminder. “So do you.”

“Don’t imagine your useless junk of a ship would do us the courtesy of a shower, would it?” 

“Yelling at her isn’t going to make her get you off this planet any faster.” The Doctor glowered at him, infuriated by his lack of temper. 

The police box landed, and the time lords didn’t even bother looking at the co-ordinates. 

The Doctor stepped towards the door, and waited for the Master to join her. 

He glanced down at her, and the Doctor realised how tense their body language was. Her shoulders were raised, and his jaw was set. Part of her wanted to take his hand, but she couldn’t find it in her. 

The Doctor would always feel like she was betraying all the people the Master had murdered, whenever she allowed him back into her life. Allowed him to be there, kiss her and comfort her in his strange way. 

He pushed open the door, and the Doctor winced, ready for aching hearts. 

What she saw was so much worse. 

Gallifrey stood, bright, and whole, and thriving in front of them. The dome wasn’t shattered, the houses standing and the land prosperous. The Doctor gasped, and listened. 

There it was. 

Breathing. 

Life. 

It was almost enough to send the Doctor crashing to her knees. 

“I- I don’t understand.” She whispered, voice almost failing her. “We shouldn’t be able to be here.”

“But we are.” He muttered. The time lord teared her gaze away from her home to glance up at the Master. 

His mouth was open, and his eyes were burning. They moved with hurt, confusion, thought and anger. With comfort and joy and hopelessness and devastation. 

It hurt more. 

The Doctor turned away, tried to turn from the clenching in her hearts, like someone was twisting a knife through the both of them simultaneously.

And then.

She heard it. 

A child, laughing. 

And it was enough to bring the Doctor crashing to her knees. 

“Let me go.” She muttered, breathing heavily as she attempted to ground herself, grasping at the ground for anything that wasn’t Gallifrey. 

She couldn’t escape it. 

Her home was Gallifrey. The home she’d ran to was made by time lords. The TARDIS was Gallifreyan. The only person stood next to her was a time lord. He was from Gallifrey. The very anatomy in her body was Gallifreyan, and the Doctor wanted to rip it out. 

“Let me go!” She screamed, lungs raw and hearts heaving. Her anger dissolved to sobs as she dropped her head to the floor, feeling the cold metal beneath her as she curled up into a ball. 

The Doctor had never considered herself weak. She’d always thought she was resilient, strong and level headed. She’d thought she would always overcome whatever was thrown her way- if she could deal with the Time War, she could deal with anything. 

But this was too much. Her very ship seemed to have turned against her. Her very home seemed to be indulging in her torture. 

The Doctor felt hands dragging her upwards, and she tried to shrug them off, but her limbs were too heavy and too tired to try hard enough. 

The Master sat besides her, pulling her up by the armpits. 

The Doctor gave up and into his grip. He pulled her up to rest her back against his chest. He sat against the console and pressed the Doctor in the space between his knees. He wrapped tight and reassuring arms across her, and buried his head in the crook of her neck. 

That was when, through her tears, she realised, he was crying too. Silently and privately, but crying, hot tears spilling onto her collarbone.

The Doctor didn’t stop her own tears from falling, hiccuping as she leant back into him, reaching up and around to come and rest her hand reassuringly at the nape of his neck. 

And, the last Time Lords cried, wrapped up in each other and the aching of their four hearts. 

-

Nights on Gallifrey had always been cold. The Doctor found out this was still the case when she awoke with a slight jolt, a shiver coursing down her body. 

The Time Lord blinked her eyes open, watching her breath in the freezing air as she caught it. There was a cold sweat clinging to her skin, doing nothing to help her shuddering body. 

The Doctor then realised, the door had been left open. She was staring into the night on her home planet. It looked to be almost dawn, if she had to gauge it. 

The city was quiet, but never completely. It was always bustling, never sleeping, but she couldn’t hear children. 

She was grateful for that. It was too hard to hear the children. 

The Doctor shifted slightly, becoming more aware of her surroundings. Noticing that she was still tangled up with the Master, she twisted around slightly to look at him. Surprisingly, he was awake, staring into nothingness, eyes glazed over. 

The Doctor reached out to a hand resting on his thigh, and hesitantly put her own over it. They were both cold. 

The Master jolted slightly, eyes focusing and blinking in the other as she spun around, pulling her legs up to her chest and turning to face him. 

“Are you ok?” Her voice was rough, and the Doctor hated how pained she sounded. 

“I don’t want to be here.” He muttered, glancing at their hands. 

“Neither.”

He watched how the Doctor attempted to squeeze his hand reassuringly, before he pulled his away.

The Doctor frowned, confused as to why he was brushing her off as he stood up, steadying himself on the console they’d been leant on. She followed his lead, standing and wincing at the ache she discovered in her spine. 

Holding a hand to it, she stretched the best she could, before running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to flatten it. 

“What do we do now?” She asked. Although, deep down, the Doctor was very aware of what they were doing here. She knew what the TARDIS wanted them to do. Why? She couldn’t be sure. 

“What we have too.” The Master replied shortly, pushing himself off of the console and striding towards the door. 

The Doctor blinked, surprised and confused at his sudden coldness towards the situation, as she hurried after him. 

Although, the more she thought about it, the time lord would admit she should have seen it coming. It was what he always did. Cut off his emotion at the brain stem, before he even had the chance to process it. It was what she assumed she’d interrupted when she touched him. 

The Doctor had never quite mastered that. Never being the best at school, the Master would always be a better time lord than her. A better copy- more of what they wanted. Emotionless when he wanted to be. But still brilliant. Resourceful and a leader. The perfect solider. 

A small part of the Doctor thought that would all come crashing down when his boots grinded into the hot, Gallifreyan dirt. 

But it didn’t. The Master only clenched his jaw, and waited for her, with what looked like impatience burning at his eyes. 

The Doctor sighed deeply. Her body felt like it had been wanting this for years. Crying out to her and nagging her to go back to her home, be surrounded by people who were just like her. 

But now that it was here, her mind was screaming at her to stop. To stay, not take a step, not lift a finger, not  breath e.

But the Doctor swallowed it down, trying her best, for the one hundredth time to do what the Master had done, just not feel anything, make it easier for herself. 

She stepped onto the dirt. 

It crunched beneath her feet like broken glass. Like rubble and smoulder and bones. It felt hot beneath her, like fire and screaming and suffering. 

The Doctor steadied herself on the TARDIS, and swallowed. 

“Let’s just get this over and done with.” She muttered, finding it in her to push away from her ship and leave it behind, the little comfort she had had left staying with it. 

-

The Doctor made her way down a track that lead into the city, familiar footsteps following behind her. 

She tried not to think about how many bodies would lay in the streets, how many bones would be beneath her feet, had she come here a few hundred years in the future, if her knowledge of her planet was anything to go by. 

It hadn’t been too bad, all things considered, because they hadn’t run into anyone yet. 

Until a pair of children ran past. 

One was squealing, stampeding through the streets, running from another, chasing and giggling with a stick. Their grins were wide and their eyes were bright, with promises of future and happiness. They couldn’t have been eight, not yet thrown into the system. 

And it was so beautiful it felt like someone had punched the Doctor in the stomach. 

Suddenly, she felt a hand wrap tightly around hers and the Doctor glanced to see her friend. 

He was guilt ridden, and devastated. He looked like a child again. 

The Doctor raised his hand to her lips and kissed it gently, squeezing tightly and forcing as much reassurance into her eyes as she could. 

“I’m here.” The Time Lord pressed firmness into her voice, and he nodded a little, glancing down in shame. 

They continued walking, hands gripping tightly to one another’s, as the path widened out to a street, and buildings began to come up on either side of them. 

The Doctor didn’t stop to wonder why she was reassuring the man that would kill them all- had already killed them all. If she knew anything about the Master, or who he used to be, she knew that he wouldn’t have done this for no good reason. 

He always thought he was justified, and wether or not she agreed didn’t matter. She could understand his pain, knowing it would be hard and knowing how many would be hurt, but feeling, in his gut that it was the right thing, that there was no other way. 

He may have been a bad person, and he may have done awful things, but he was tortured. The Doctor knew, better than anyone, how his mind worked. The constant drumming in his head, everything he’d seen- it was enough to drive anyone mad. 

So the Doctor held on tight, and brushed shoulders with him as they filtered onto the bustling street. 

Gallifreyans were bustling about the streets, decked head to toe in red and gold, draping across them. Some were chatting on corners, some children racing around, and some weaving in and out with baskets and boxes. 

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath, as Gallifreyan reached her ears. 

It wasn’t new. She’d been speaking it since the Master found her at the Falls- no reason to speak English when the gang weren’t around- but this was different. 

The sound filled her ears, melodic and comforting and familiar. It was beautiful and the Doctor realised how much she’d missed it. 

Swallowing thickly, the Time Lord closed herself off, and listened, just for a moment. 

The frantic pulsing of about one hundred hearts, all beating at different times, filled her ears. It was manic, and exciting and so, delicate. 

The Doctor had never been Gallifrey’s biggest fan. She would be the first to admit that. It had corrupted her and everything she’d held dear. But that hadn’t been these people. 

That hadn’t been the people who lead simple lives, filled with laughter and music and everything beautiful. 

“It’s a lot different to when we were kids.” The Master stated besides her. 

“Yes.” She agreed breathlessly. “But no less beautiful.”

“No less fragile.” He added. Nodding slightly, the Doctor continued forward, legs like lead as they carried her. 

They didn’t know where they were going, or what to do, but the Doctor didn’t mind. 

She took in the scenes around her with wide eyes, heart filling and fluttering with such bittersweet joy. 

There was a little tug on the Doctor’s coat, and she looked down. There was a young girl, smiling shyly at her. She held up two blood red flowers, and the Doctor smiled widely. 

Crouching down, she let the girl put the flower behind her ear. 

“Thank you.” The Doctor watched the girls large eyes. “What are you celebrating here?”

“It’s Orbit Day.” She smiled widely, eyes glancing up and down the Doctor, and then the Master. A new year for the Gallifreyan’s then- roughly translated. “Are you aliens? You don’t look like you’re from here.” 

“Oh- Uh, no. We’re from here. Just...been travelling. More practical clothes.” The Doctor shrugged with a smile, as the girl nodded in understanding, before holding up a flower to the Master. 

The girl had long, dark hair and an infectious smile. But, despite her genuine nature, the Doctor thought the Master might turn her away. Still, the Time Lord crouched down beside her, letting the girl thread the flower stem through the button hole on the lapel of his coat. 

“Thank you.” He smiled a small smile, as the girl grinned at them. 

“I hope you have a good orbit.” 

“And I hope you have a wonderful one.” The Doctor and the Master stood as the girl skipped off up the road, basket of red flowers swaying at her side. 

The Master squeezed her hand at the Doctor’s side, and she turned to him as they continued on. 

“Did you ever regret not having children with me?” She asked, rather bluntly. The question didn’t phase him though, and the Master shrugged. 

“Sometimes. Rarely though. It wouldn’t have worked.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not compatible, you know that.” He shrugged. “Woven or not, that child would be in the middle of some nasty fights.” The Doctor hummed soflty, considering it. 

“Probably right. Never one for settling, were we?” 

“No.” He agreed. “More- fruitless passion.”

“Passionate hatred.” She corrected with a quiet scoff. 

As they walked, talking idly, and took in the sights, it got easier for the Doctor to ignore the throbbing of pain in her hearts, and allow joy to flood her from top to bottom. 

The Master gasped all of a sudden, and tugged their Doctor over to a stall. 

The streets were full of them. Selling food and jewels and gadgets, all for their New Years. The Doctor had always loved New Years on Gallifrey. So much colour. So much unadulterated joy. 

The Master pointed out a fruit at a stall, and the Doctor’s face lit up. The two of them looked like children in a candy store, and the Doctor grinned at the fruit. 

The man running the stool blinked, confused at the two of them. 

“Can I..help you two?” He asked. 

“How much is that fruit?” The Doctor asked. She supposed she must have some money on her somewhere, and she figured at least a little must have been Gallifreyan. 

The Master put a hand on her arm though, and she glanced up. 

“We’re Time Lords.” The man narrowed his eyes and held a hand out, which the Master took. The two closed their eyes for a moment, and the man pulled back, handing them the fruit. 

“Have a good day.” He said pleasantly, and the Master lead the Doctor away. 

“Y’know we could’ve paid for it.” The Doctor chastised lightly, eyes on the fruit in front of her. It was a light blue, with a darker rind. She could practically taste it on her tongue, as the Master shrugged. 

“Do you have any money on you? Cuz I don’t.”

“I’m sure I do somewhere.”

The Master didn’t reply, only taking his hand from hers to peal back the rind. The smell hit her nose, and the Doctor nearly salivated. 

“I haven’t seen one of them in millennia.” She muttered absently as he picked a section off, handing it to her. 

“Since I used to pick them from my tree every time I went home, and bring them back to the Academy for you?” He picked a piece off for himself, and glanced at her. 

“Good times.” She grinned, before they tipped their heads back and squirted the liquid from inside the skin directly down their throats. 

It was beautifully sour, and if the Doctor had to use a taste to describe her childhood, it would be the taste of that fruit. She groaned happily. “It’s not too ripe.”

“It’s good.” He agreed, picking another one off and doing the same to that one. 

“Y’know, I think the first time you brought me those fruits was the moment I realised I had a crush on you.” The Doctor discarded the skin and knocked her head back for another section. The Master hummed besides her, more in acknowledgment than anything else. 

“Never had a crush on you.” He teased lightly. 

“Yeah, didn’t I know it.”

-

They were sat on a bench, watching the world go by in silence. 

The Doctor didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to leave, but knew, realistically, there was nothing for them here. 

The Master knew it too, she could sense it. But neither wanted to say it. 

“Doctor,” he sat up a little, as the sky turned to dusk again. She scrambled for something to say, something to prolong the inevitable ‘we should go.’

“Why?” She blurted out, and he frowned. 

“..why?”

“Why do you call me that?” She asked. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to regard her. 

“That’s what you’re known as?” He asked, like he’d got it wrong. 

“But we’re alone. You don’t have to call me that, there’s no reason to keep up the pretence.” 

“You respect the name I chose, it’s only right that I do the same.” He shrugged a little. The Doctor knew he wasn’t stupid, he was very aware that she was stalling. Still, she appreciated the fact he was indulging her in the idle chat. 

“Do I respect the name you chose?” The Doctor scrunched her nose up slightly, and the Master shrugged beside her.

“Not willingly.”

“Forcing respect, isn’t that redundant?” She contemplated. 

“Excuse me.” They heard a small voice in front of them, and the two Time Lords turned to a small boy. 

He was small, freckles splotched unevenly across his chubby cheeks, with a mop of unruly blond hair. The Doctor heard her friend suck a deep breath in. She didn’t say anything about the obvious resemblance between herself and the young kid in front of her, but it was still like a sharp pain, in her hearts. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked softly. 

“My friend- he’s fallen over. Usually I’d ask my mum to help me, but she’s so far away and he said he can’t stand up. He’s hurt his knee really badly. Can you help us?” 

“Of course!” The Doctor jumped up, hearing a huff behind her before her friend stood as well. 

The boy smiled genuinely at her, before leading them hurriedly over to another small boy, sat next to a tree and sniffling. 

The Doctor’s eyes widened, and at this point she was convinced the universe was cursing the two of them. This kid looked like the spitting image of the Master when he was younger, maybe with slightly curlier hair and more tears. 

“It’s ok!” The blond wrapped his arms around his friend, and the Doctor kneeled next to the two of them. “These people are going to help you.” 

“That’s quite the scrape there, bud.” The Doctor said gently. It wasn’t. The graze was easily fixed, but a massive deal to a kid who was a little too far away from his mum. 

“What- What are we going to do?” The brunette sniffled. “What if I never walk again?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious.” She reassured gently. The Master crouched besides her, and shot her a look. 

“You shouldn’t.”

“I want to.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” She shot him a fond look, and turned back to the boy. 

“Don’t worry. This won’t hurt.” She reassured gently. Yet the small brunette still looked at his friend for reassurance. 

“It’ll be ok.” The blond smiled fondly, taking his hand and squeezing tightly. “I’m here.” 

The Doctor tried not to focus on her joy wilting in her chest, as her eyes fluttered closed, and she rested her hand gently on the young boy’s knee. 

Mustering up the energy from her core, the Doctor breathed in and out slowly a few times, before focusing on carrying the warmth flowing through her, to her hand. 

She heard two small gasps, as the warmth left her, and the Doctor opened her eyes to see golden wisps of energy glittering and burying themselves in the wounded skin. 

“You’re a Time Lord.” The blond gasped, as the Doctor pulled her hand back, revealing renewed skin. 

The brunette’s eyes widened, and he pulled his knee up to a better position, the two boys gawking over the joint for a moment. 

“Wow.” The brunette whispered. 

“I want to be a Time Lord!” The blond grinned a toothy grin, and the Doctor smiled a little sadly. 

“I’d think hard about that.” She encouraged gently. “It’s not easy.”

“But it’s cool!” He pointed at his friend’s knee. 

“Thank you, Mrs Time Lord.” The brunette smiled a little shyly at her. 

“It’s ok.” The Doctor gently took the flower from behind her ear, before delicately placing it behind the brunettes own. “For being brave.”

-

The Doctor chewed on her lip as they walked through the streets, as dusk settled over the planet. 

“We should change it.” She announced, deliberately in English. The Master blinked at her, surprised at her switch, which then morphed into a frown. 

“What?”

“This. We can change it. Screw set points, when has that mattered? Let’s do it.”

“Doctor, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’m not.” She realised how pleading her eyes looked, but she didn’t care. She’d beg if she had too, she just wanted him to agree. For once. “I’ve done it before. I changed this all before.”

“It was never a set point.” He countered, rather calmly. “You just thought it was because of the paradoxes. You never burned Gallifrey, you just thought you had.”

“But it’s in the future. It can still be changed.”

“The planets future. My history. I’ve already burned it.” His eyes were slightly harder, and the other sighed out sharply, exasperated. 

“That’s what I thought too. Please- we can change it.”

“I don’t want to.” His voice was suddenly low and hissed. The Doctor held her tongue for a moment, looking at him like he’d just sprouted another head. 

“How can you say that? After everything.”

The Master shook his head with a quiet scoff, pushing ahead of her. Rage bubbled low in the Doctor’s throat, but she tried to swallow it down. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I did.”

“Then tell me.” She grabbed his arm and turned him around, determined to not let him shrug her off. “You’ve proved your point.”

“When will you get it?” He scowled at her, obviously hurting. However, the Doctor found that she didn’t care. She was hurting too. And she hadn’t burned the bloody planet. “I’m not trying to prove a point. I don’t want you to find out from me.”

“Why not?” She demanded, bubbles of fury escaping into her tone. 

“Because I don’t want you to look at me like I looked at them when I found out.” He snapped under his breath. The Doctor was taken aback- surprised that he would be so sentimental. 

“I wouldn’t.” She promised emptily. He saw right through it. Scoffing, he looked up, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Trust me. You would.” 

“Who are ‘them’?” She asked a different question, steering around the actual topic, frustratedly. 

“The High Council.” He muttered. 

“Does something the High Council did, mean all these people we’ve met today should die?” The time lord tried to make her voice as soft and genuine as possible, but the Master was clearly resolute. 

“It would be a crueler fate to let them live.” Her old friend tugged his arm from her grip and began to walk away. 

“And what about those boys?” She called after him. Her tone was cold but the floor beneath her was beginning to feel hot again, and brittle. There were echoes of screams in her head- although that could’ve been in the Master’s as well. 

He stopped, but didn’t turn around. 

“I suppose they deserve it?”

“Those boys will turn into emotionless, killing machines. A tool- a pawn for the Time Lords.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“Yes I do.” He muttered. The Doctor huffed angrily, striding towards him. 

“No you don’t.” 

He turned on his heel, inches from her face. His expression was twisted into hatred and sorrow and guilt. 

“Yes. I do. You know how?” 

“How?” She muttered, eyes hard. 

“Because they were us. The spitting image. For them, it’s either death, or the two of them ending up, two thousand years from now, screaming at each other, having sex to feel something, and arguing over an inevitable genocide.” 

His words shouldn’t have hurt, because the Doctor knew they were true. She always had, and so had he. But neither of them had ever said anything. It was easier. 

“What would you prefer?” 

Her words were hot on her tongue, as she said them, icily cold. 

“I’d prefer a chance. You’re taking away their chance to even try to be good people.” 

“You can’t be a good person and a Time Lord! It’s this, or they all end up like Rassilon.” 

“You don’t-“ she clenched her jaw for a second, overwhelmingly frustrated as she threw her hands up and pushed him backwards slightly. “You don’t know that! You can’t just go around making generalisations like that! We’re talking about billions here!”

“No, we’re not. There’s no discussion to be had here.” The Master seemed to have become aware that they were being stared at by a lot of people, but the Doctor didn’t care. 

“Fine. I’ll do it myself then.” She said cooly, flame hot anger melting her insides and burning up the floor beneath her. The heat at her heels gave the Doctor the sudden, overwhelming need to run. Run from this, run from him and hide herself away in her TARDIS for another year. 

Still, she’d stay, even if it was only for those two boys. 

The Master scoffed. 

“How? You’ve got no idea when I did it.” 

“About a three hundred year window.” She shrugged. “Trial and Error.”

“And what will you do when you find it, after that couple of millennia?” He crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows. 

“I’ll stop you.” She moved closer. 

“I won’t let you.” He stepped closer. 

There was a centimetre between them, when she promised. “Then I’ll have to kill you.” 

The Master laughed, stepping away from her and shaking his head. He was frustrated, clearly. 

“Point me in the right direction. Tell me where to go.” She offered, as a sort of compromise. 

He hummed, and began to circle her. The Doctor supposed their friendly relationship would never last long- it seemed to be back to fury and intimidation. 

“All that brain behind your eyes, Doctor.” He muttered behind her, prodding her temple with no real intent. She glared at him, but didn’t bat him away. “You’d think you’d be able to put it to good use.”

“Never was as smart as you.” A little feed to the ego went a long way with the Master, she had learnt that quickly. 

“No. No you weren’t.” He seemed to revel in a memory for a moment, before circling to face her again. “Always a little teachers pet though, weren’t you? Always yearning to be a Time Lord. Be apart of something bigger than yourself. Aren’t I giving you that now?” He asked, opening his arms up. 

“Genocide wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” She shot back dryly. 

“No. That’s where you and I differed. You were never thinking about the bigger picture.” He extended his arms, gesticulating a kind of grandeur with his hands. 

“I never wanted to be apart of the bigger picture. Just wanted to be a foot man. Quite happy with taking orders and doing my job.” She shrugged, anger still pooling at her throat. 

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because you do a wonderful impression of someone who wants to be a legend, my love.” 

“No.” She snapped slightly, infuriated at the pleasure he got from it. “And I’m not now. I just want to help people.” 

“I’m sure that’s why.” The Master scoffed, stepping into her space again. “Sure you don’t want to be known as the Doctor: Saved Gallifrey twice over from the big bad guys.”

“If you think,” she spat, fury sparking out from her tongue, and the Doctor gave up trying to fight it. She was already fighting too many losing battles as it was. “Even for a second, that that’s why I want to help them, then you don’t know me at all.” 

And with that, she stalked away. 

-

She wanted to leave him behind. She wanted to get back to her TARDIS, take off and never look back- leaving him to drown in the guilt of his own sins. 

The Doctor knew she wouldn’t, the paradoxes would cause infinite issue. But she still thought about it. 

The Time Lord sat down on a bench, scowl reaching her eyes as she glared into the ground in front of her. 

She was furious, and heartbroken, and she was angry at herself. A huge part of her was mentally smacking herself in the face. She was an idiot. 

She couldn’t believe that she’d thought, even for a second, that he would change his mind. That he would turn around and agree, hold her hand and help her to save them all. 

The Doctor hated herself for how often she forgot that they weren’t the same. 

“Y’know,” a voice pulled the time lord out of her thoughts. “If you’re not careful, the wind might change. You’d be stuck with that face forever.”

The Doctor glanced up, offering a small smile to the older, lined woman that had perched herself next to the Time Lord. 

“Sorry.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, shrugging. “Just..got in an argument.”

“With who?” The woman asked, old eyes blinking carefully at her. She didn’t look old, but the Doctor could tell, the woman had been around longer than her. The eyes betrayed it. 

“Well, my friend?” The Doctor shrugged. “My enemy? My husband? Take your pick.” 

The woman sat back knowingly, humming. 

“I understand.” She nodded slowly. “How long have you known him?”

“As long as I can remember.” The Doctor offered truthfully. 

“And you’re what? Two thousand, give or take?” The woman guessed, and the Doctor smiled a small smile. 

“You’re good.” 

“Four thousand- it’s impossible not to be.”

“How have you done it?” The Doctors asked, not wanting to pry. “I know I couldn’t do another two thousand.”

“I’ve just tried to stay out of trouble. And that includes with boys.” She nudged the Doctor lightly, and the time lord smiled, grateful for the banter. “So, an argument?”

“Yes. I suppose. Or more- a continuation of the same one we’ve been having for centuries. I just..made a stupid assumption. And I’m kicking myself for it now.”

“What was the assumption?” She asked. 

“That he was like me. That maybe we could see eye to eye for once.” The Doctor shrugged a little hopelessly. 

“Do you know what you’re going to do?” The woman asked softly. 

“I know what I want to do. But he won’t let me. And neither will my ship. I’ll burn myself out before I find what I’m looking for. I want to help, but.. I think deep down I know that I can’t.” Her voice quivered slightly, and the Doctor avoided the kind woman’s eye. 

“So what will you do instead?” She didn’t say anything about the tremble. 

“Find him. Ask him a fruitless question, and inevitably say goodbye.” She sighed. The Doctor didn’t want to do it. She wanted something to change, wanted to beak the cycle. 

And she didn’t want to say goodbye. She didn’t want this to be the last day she spent on Gallifrey. But it all made sense to her- horrible, bittersweet sense. 

The TARDIS hadn’t been torturing them. She’d been allowing them to say goodbye. 

“Is that what you want?” The woman asked. 

“No.” The Doctor shook her head, before frowning. “I don’t know. Maybe. I want to stay with him, but we can’t. It doesn’t work, it never has.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying. Somethings are worth fighting for- worth putting the effort in for. Is he one of them?” 

The Doctor glanced at her, frowning. 

“I think so.” She nodded. “But I don’t think he thinks that.” 

“He doesn’t think you’re worth fighting for?”

“No. He doesn’t think he’s worth fighting for.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to change his mind.” She patted her hand, a small, old smile crossing her face. The Doctor nodded slowly, smiling back gratefully. 

“Doctor!” The Time Lord glanced up, as the Master stalked towards her. The Doctor stood up. “Did you have to be so hard to find?” He snapped. 

“I’m sat on a bench.” She pointed out dryly. 

“An inconvenient place to be when I’m trying to find you and talk to you.” He glared back half-heartedly. 

“Oh well, next time I’ll try to be a lot more obvious.” She quipped back sarcastically. “What do you want to talk about?” 

The Master opened his mouth, and then glanced down at the woman on the bench. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this here?” 

“I don’t remember saying I wanted to talk to you yet.” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I don’t remember you being that petulant.” He argued back. 

“Don’t you?”

“Can you just listen to me? Without being on the defensive?” He groaned, clearly frustrated. “I’m trying to tell you something. I have been for the last three days but you just don’t get it, so I may as well be blunt.”

“Is it something I want to hear?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I haven’t said it.”

“Since when did you care what I thought about you?” 

“Since Always.” 

She held her tongue. 

He held out a hand. 

“Walk with me, Doctor.” Glancing down at his palm for a moment, the Time Lord huffed frustratedly, but put her hand in his. He drew it to his lips and kissed it gently, before twisting to interlock their fingers and leading them up the road. 

The Doctor glanced back at the woman, who gave her a genuine smile and a good matured thumbs up. 

She smiled back, just a little. 

-

“So go on. Tell me.” The Doctor pushed, after walking in silence, hand in hand, for ten minutes. 

“As long as you promise not to pull away.” He bargained. 

“Ok. I promise.” She said lightly, shifting to hold on a little tighter, even though the Doctor knew it wasn’t her hand that he was talking about. 

“I didn’t want to burn Gallifrey. I never wanted to kill them.” 

The Doctor stopped in her tracks, a dark and confused frown coming to rest between her brows. 

“I don’t understand.” She stated. 

“I don’t want to kill them all, I never did. The Time Lords, yeah, maybe. But not the Gallifreyan’s. You might not, but I remember when I was a child, before the Academy. You’re right, those boys don’t deserve what’s going to happen to them.”

“Then why? Why not just kill the High Council and leave the rest?” The Doctor asked quietly. 

Her mind was going a mile a minute, trying to make sense of this new found compassion in the Master. It was new, and the Doctor didn’t trust it. 

“I meant what I said. It’s a mass mercy killing. It’s kinder.”

“Is that true? Or is that what your hearts are telling you?” She asked, not unkindly. 

“No, it’s true. Even you will see that, when you discover the truth.” He said it gravely, and firmly. 

The Doctor nodded slowly, with a deep sigh, and let go of his hand. 

“Then this really is it. This is goodbye.” 

“Apparently so.” 

“Just- tell me one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Those boys.” The Doctor asked softly, sadly. “Will they suffer?” 

The Master’s eyes hardened into firmness, he was sure of his words. 

“No. It was quick for those who were innocent.”

“And what about those boys?” She asked, eyes clouded with what she really meant: everything she could never say, all those moments and emotions that the two would never be put into words. It was like drowning. Like not being able to breathe. “Will they suffer?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “But they’ll suffer together. And they’ll love. They’ll see things and meet people. Sometimes they’ll look into each other’s eyes, and it’ll almost make the suffering worth the while.” 

“Almost.” The Doctor smiled a sad smile, and it was almost enough. 

-

She kissed her fingers, before pressing them to the wood of the TARDIS. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, sighing deeply. Turning, the Doctor swept in the sight before her. 

Night on Gallifrey was cold. But this night was different. 

The streets were alive with colour, and light. Laughter and love and life. Red and gold flashed in the darkness, like hope. 

She could taste fruit from her childhood, could smell flowers and herbs used for Orbit celebrations. 

And if she listened, if she focused, she could hear breathing. 

The Doctor hoped, against every hope, that this would be the moment she remembered. This Gallifrey, her home flourishing and burning brightly, would be the one she remembered. 

The Doctor closed her eyes, and for a moment, behind her eyelids, she saw the Gallifrey she’d wanted too. 

Stepping backwards into her TARDIS, the Doctor smiled at her home, one last time. 

“Goodbye Gallifrey.” 

And with that, she closed the door. 

-

“So you’re still planning on leaving me?” The Doctor teased lightly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

The Master shrugged. 

“You were expecting me to stay?”

“Not expecting.” She flipped a switch and glanced up at him. “More..hoping.”

“Hope is a dangerous thing, Doctor. Someone should have told you that.” He teased quietly. The Doctor ignored him, making her way around the console, and taking both of his hands. Raising an eyebrow, rather expectantly, she squeezed them tightly.

“Come on. Just for a while. Think about what I could show you. What you could show me. The things we could discover, the things we could invent, the things we could be apart of.” The Master sighed deeply, only shaking his head. 

“My dear, sweet Doctor, when are you going to get it? I’m never going to agree to your crazy plans to see the universe together.”

“When are you going to get it? I’m never going to stop asking.”

“You don’t want me with you.” He pulled away from her, stepping his way around the console, putting space between them. “You’re just lonely, Doctor. Go back and find your little humans friends.”

“I meant what I said.” She ignored him, but allowed the Master to put that space between them. “It would be an honour.”

“You don’t mean that. Not after everything I’ve done.” He immediately shook his head, but the Doctor only nodded enthusiastically. 

“I do. I’ve always meant it.”

The Master was quiet for a moment, before he cocked his head to the side slightly. 

“Has it ever scared you, Doctor?”

“Has what ever scared me?” 

“How much you’re in love with me. How much you’ve always loved me. The fact you can’t turn me away, after I’ve killed so many.” 

The Doctor scoffed softly, shaking her head. 

“No. Has it ever scared you? The fact you’re so merciless, you never hesitate, yet you can’t find it in your hearts to kill me.” 

He stepped towards her, closing the space with intent and firmness. 

“Yes.” He murmured. “You terrify me Doctor.” She let him tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The Time Lord looked into his eyes, openly and knowingly. “The things you do, who you turn me into. Always so close and open, yet so unreachable, so impossible to understand. Utterly fascinating.” 

“I’m not a science experiment.” She brushed his hand away teasingly, even thought she knew that wasn’t what he meant. 

He ignored her, shrugging slightly. 

“You know I don’t like not understanding things, Doctor. So why is it, that I run towards the biggest mystery in the universe. Why can’t I find it in my hearts to kill you?” 

“Maybe because you’re the one who came the closest to understanding.” She hypothesised, taking his hand from where it hung by his side, and replaced it, where it had been brushing against her cheek. 

“And why do you keep coming back to me? I’m no enigma to you.” He muttered, focusing on the way his knuckles grazed her skin. 

“No. I can read you like an open book.” 

“So why?”

“Maybe because I know how brilliant you are. Smarter than me, stronger than me, faster than me. Keep me on my toes.”

“Is that all?” He raised an eyebrow. The Doctor shrugged casually. 

“Never could say no to a little risk.”

“Little?”

“Don’t kid yourself. Little’s an overstatement.” She lied teasingly. 

“God, it’s like you’re asking me to push you out of here.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” She grinned. 

He only rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Come here.” 

The Doctor didn’t need to be told twice. 

-

“Here. Where I left it.” She took her hand from the console, as he shrugged on his coat. 

“If there’s a scratch on it-“

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hunt me down. It’s not been touched, promise.”

“Good.” He hummed, before turning to her. The Doctor made her way around the console, and stood in front of him, aching slightly with the knowledge of his imminent departure. “You should go back and get your friends, Doctor.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that.” She raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

“Trust me. Neither did I. But if they help you- if they make it easier to deal with, you should find them. You’ve been alone too long.”

“I might.”

“You will. If she has anything to do with it.” The Master scoffed, nodding at the whirring machine around the two of them. 

“The TARDIS gets what the TARDIS wants.” The Doctor laughed a little, before reaching out for his hand. “Where will you go?”

“Not sure. Somewhere quiet. Might take up knitting.”

“I’d better be getting a scarf.” 

“I’ve got something better.” The Master gently pried the blood red flower from the lapel of his coat, and placed it behind her ear. “For being brave.” 

“It’s yours.” She tried gently, not wanting to take something from him that could be important. 

“It looks better on you.” He shrugged, standing back a little. “Clever bunch, aren’t they, time lords?”

“Suspending a flower in a permanent state of bloom is pretty clever.” She nodded, gently reaching out to touch it at her temple. 

It was warm, a soft reminder of her home, without burning uncomfortably. 

“Not as clever as the head it’s touching.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to her head before turning on his heel and heading for the doors. 

She watched him, bittersweet impermanence filling her from head to toe. 

“Koshchei.” The Doctor called out gently, and the Master turned as he reached the door. 

“Theta?”

She opened her mouth, before closing it again. 

“Never mind. You already know.”

“Always have.” 

“Goodbye then, Master.” She leant back against her console. 

“Until we meet again,” he stepped out, and offered her a small smile. “Doctor.”


End file.
